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Friday, January 20, 2012

Pickelhaube

The girl in the pickelhaube hatWore the darkest of mascaraAnd a bob blacker than that.

Her legs were long and smooth,Hands clasped at her kneeAs she sat upon a stool for some quick photography.Now, gone is the girlAnd gone is old Berlin;But her grand-niece has the pickelhaube,And her easy smile, again.
______for dverse Meeting The Bar--Imagism

I think I've told you before how I love this old World War I soldier's ballad, as I heard it sung in the folk coffeehouses of my youth, as a sort of folk song..it has that classic quality, once heard never forgotten. Nobody does it like Marlene though...what a beautiful smoky voice. Your poem is a warm look at how some important things may change, yet never really go away, and the image of the lamplight, the hat and the smile is incandescent.

My new book !

available now on Amazon

“I'd rather sing one wild song and burst my heart with it, than live a thousand years watching my digestion and being afraid of the wet.” ― Jack London, The Turtles of Tasman

"The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all." — Ted Hughes

Poetry made from...

...trinkets, mojo, and double mocha latte!

Welcome to the Word Garden

The Word Garden consists of original poems written by me, Shay a.k.a. Fireblossom. Please stop a while and enjoy them. But don't pick the blooms that you find here, they must not be planted elsewhere without permission of the author.